


Despondence

by ladykiki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladykiki/pseuds/ladykiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, they just felt like giving up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Despondence

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the "depression" square of h/c_bingo card.

1.

Jessica was dead.

She’d died in agony, pinned to the ceiling over his bed with her stomach slashed, burning, and all Sam had been able to do was lie there, to deny it. As if saying no had ever changed anything before. 

Sam knew lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, didn’t change anything now. He knew it, but a part of him kept hoping that if he stayed there long enough, he’d be able to switch places with her. That it could have still been a dream, and this time would be different.

“Rise and shine, Sammy.” Dean smacked his leg and kept moving. Sam had forgotten how to keep moving. He’d forgotten how to start. Every decision he’d ever made had gotten Jessica killed.

“Up and at ‘em, Sam.”

There was nowhere to go. Jessica was dead and all the research in the world wasn’t going to bring her back. It wasn’t going to get them any closer to finding the thing that had killed her. Dad had been looking for the thing that killed Mom for twenty-three years. What was special about him joining the search?

Maybe they’d both still be alive if he was dead. If he’d never been born.

“All right. That’s it.”

Suddenly, the world tilted. Sam flailed, slamming his hand flat, but that didn’t save him, like pushing himself up in his apartment hadn’t saved Jess. The world went out from under him and he tumbled to the floor, adrenaline firing through his veins, too little, too late. 

Dean stood over him, grabbed on and didn’t let go. “Get up. Get dressed. We’ve got work to do.”

His arms and legs moved, so he did.

*

2.

Dad was dead. Dean kept expecting those three little words to mean something, but they never did. The man had been gone more than he’d been around, those last few years. It wasn’t like it changed anything, him being gone.

_Dean_ , John murmured, _I need you to promise me. This is important._

Sam hadn’t gotten the memo, of course. Suddenly, Sam was sticking close and looking for jobs. Like John could still bestow his approval. Like it meant something. 

It figured Sam would get on board with sticking around just when Dean would have liked him to fuck off, just so he could have some room to breathe. Just for a little while. Just so Dean could get his bearings back. 

_Sam’s special, Dean. The Demon, he has plans for him._

It didn’t help that Bobby kept walking around like he was stepping on eggshells. Bobby, who’d been gruff and straightforward as long as Dean had known him, kept looking at him like he’d break if he wasn’t careful.

Whatever. He’d told both of them he was fine. And he was fine. It wasn’t his fault if they didn’t believe him. That was their problem. It wasn’t worth the effort to try to set them straight. 

Most days, it wasn’t worth the effort to get up.

_You have to save him, Dean. And if you can’t save him, you’ll have to kill him._

Sam wouldn’t leave well enough alone, though. That hadn’t changed, at least, so most days he went down to work on Baby. She didn’t put anything on him, didn’t ask anything of him; he could breathe, then, because Sam and Bobby would leave him alone, let him get on with it. 

“Lunch is ready,” Sam called. 

Dean didn’t push out from under the Impala’s chassis, even though he hadn’t turned a wrench in almost two hours. “I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat, Dean.”

“I’m fine.” He got back to work, because that was what Sam needed to believe him. 

After a moment, Sam said, “I’ll leave your plate here.” Dean didn’t answer and Sam didn’t wait for one. He heard Sam put something down on top of the car, then he heard Sam’s too-big feet moving away. 

Dean breathed, and ignored the weight pressing the air from his lungs, suffocating him. 

*

3.

Sam closed the book, no closer to a way to save Dean than when he’d opened it. Another resource down. Another day gone. 

He didn’t have any other ideas. 

Blankly, Sam stared at the wall. In a minute, he’d get up and go to bed. In the morning, he’d track down a new lead, a new book, a new—anything. In the morning, he’d find a way to save Dean. 

Right now, he just tried to remember how to breathe. 

*

4.

Dean didn’t have anything left for Sam. Not after Hell. Not after Alistair.

The pain didn’t even mean anything, wasn’t anything less than he deserved. For being too weak to live without Sam, and locking him into Dean’s deal. For being too weak to stay on the rack, and turning his torment on other souls. For being less than his brother needed now, and pushing him into the arms of that she-demon.

The Angels couldn’t even use him. He was too weak for that, too. 

Not that that was any surprise.

Castiel disappeared with a faint rustle of wings when Dean didn’t respond. Dean let himself sink. 

*

5.

Dean had been right. 

Sam sank onto the bottom step, alone, and felt that truth through every bone in his body. Dean had been right. Killing Lillith hadn’t been the answer. Sam had lied to Dean and snuck around behind his back and betrayed him, and it had all been for nothing. For less than nothing, because his failure would destroy the world. 

Sam sucked air into his lungs and felt like he was suffocating. How could he possibly make up for this?

He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. It was too big, too far beyond him. The truth of that was like lead through his entire body, weighty and inescapable.

For Dean, he would try, though. And when it wasn’t enough, when he’d found a way to fix this, or when they’d figured out it couldn’t be fixed, if he was still here, he’d make sure nothing like this could happen again.


End file.
